


The Beginning of Another Fellowship - Hopefully

by LaviBookman



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, At least once the series actually starts, Characters to be added later, Constructive Criticism Welcome, I'm Bad At Tagging, Looking for a Beta, OC-centric, Oc doesn't really do much, Original Character-centric, Original Male Character - Freeform, POV Third Person Limited, Started before I finished the series so now I'm like what, Starts pre-series, Trans Character, Trans Male Character, What Was I Thinking?, trans original character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 09:49:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7431037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaviBookman/pseuds/LaviBookman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herein is recorded the tale of Zephyr, a boy of Earth who learns what it is to live, not just survive, and a great many other things along the way. An unexpected family may also lie in the cards, but who knows? Certainly not a boy who doesn't know where he came from but is aware somewhere out there is a place for him. </p>
<p>With any luck, that place wouldn't be six feet under.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Cards are Dealt

**Author's Note:**

> Hej everyone! This is my first work on here - not my first fanfiction, but the first on this site. As the tags say, constructive criticism is welcome and I am looking for a beta. I need a beta who isn't afraid to get on me about not writing - I have a bad habit of starting stuff and not finishing it, so hoping this won't happen here. Thanks for taking a look and don't be reluctant to tell me if something needs fixed. Please don't refuse to read because it is OC-Centric. It took me a good bit of debating whether to change the story and make it

These streets are damp, he noted. Not that that fact was anything new. For some reason a lot of the streets he visited looked like it had just rained, though it would have been a very local rain.

“Hey, what’s your name?” Looking up at the scratchy voice, his eyes landed on a sketchy figure donned in dark, ripped clothes, probably in an attempt to be cool. The guy failed, miserably. Dark limp hair - probably didn’t shower much. Ugly as sin to boot. 

He didn’t answer, letting the silence continue. 

Across the street, the guy’s eager face twisted into a sneer, strangely highlighted by the setting sun. 

“I asked you a question, dumb-ass. Answer it or I’ll just have to get some fun out of it. With a body like that I’m sure there’ll be plenty of fun to have.” 

He just sighed, unwilling to answer the man. Instead he continued on his way, not that he really had any destination in mind. The ugly man took a step forward, brandishing a short pocket knife, and he had just turned to face him when two hands clamped onto his shoulders, holding him in place.

“There. Now get to work Kiran, we don’t want anybody coming by and finding him.” This voice was deeper, smoother. 

Certainly more threatening.

Instinctively, his body shimmered and blinked out of sight, although it did nothing as the man simply tightened his grip.

“We’ll be having none of that. Looks like we caught ourselves a wizard, huh Kiran?” 

“Oh yeah. Huh. Wonder if we can ransom her off?” 

A deep part of him flinched at that - both the idea of being ransomed and being called female. 

“Only if she’s part of guild I think, Tini. Maybe a family. She looks young enough she’s probably still living with her family.”

_ Don’t flinch, don’t flinch. _ He chanted to himself repeatedly as he tried to distract himself with how to get out of this situation.

Kiran got up close, putting their faces close together and took a deep sniff while running a hand through the long red hair before grabbing a fistful. It was slightly painful, but nothing he hadn’t dealt with before.

Traveling by yourself tended to leave you open to certain situations. He made the detached observation without flinching as numbness settled in. 

“What have we here?” The ice-cold draw sent shivers down his back - and through those of his captors, apparently. His shoulders were released and he darted a few steps forward, too curious as to who saved him to completely leave the area, turning to look at the man. 

The setting sun blocked out most of his figure, including his face, but he had a feeling he would remember this man, even if this man didn’t have any idea who he had just saved. In his mind, he was burning the figure, knapsack and all. Turning tail, he made his escape by utilizing every trick he had learned in his few years on the streets.

Streets later, he finally stopped, looking at his reflection in one of the many puddles on the pebbles as he shimmered back into view. 

Mismatched green and blue eyes stared back at him, framed by past-shoulder-length red hair he hadn’t been able to cut recently. The puddle thankfully wasn’t large enough to see more than that, but he knew he was still wearing a dress that had seen better days. There hadn’t been much else to grab at the time. With a quiet flower print and a high-cut collar it had originally been quite modest until an unfortunate incident with a magic vehicle had ripped part of it off. Now it seemed to be an invitation for less-than-savory characters to try and take advantage of him. 

If any money he managed to earn from small jobs or was given didn’t go immediately to food or other immediate concerns (first aid, for instance). He would replace these rags, but he hadn’t had the chance in quite a while. 

The idea to wait for the man had been tempting, but the possibility of being sent to an orphanage or foster home loomed larger, and so he had run.  The man had probably already forgotten about the event and went on his way anyhow. It looked like he had been carrying a rucksack too - that meant he traveled, possibly a lot. He wouldn’t want someone else to look after.

Standing, he sighed. Time to be on. The sun had almost completely set, and he wanted to find a nice crate or something to sleep in while he had the chance. After some of the stories he had heard from others he didn’t dare sleep in the open - if he couldn’t find somewhere somewhat sheltered he would just skip sleeping, wandering the city instead.

As he checked place after place his mind went back to the events of earlier. He had known it was going to happen, had managed to keep his head, but now that he wasn’t sufficiently distracted the effects were setting in. Pale hands shook as they moved aside another abandoned sheet of wood, uncovering a box of nearly perfect proportions. Absently, he got to his knees and crawled in, moving the piece of wood into place as a makeshift door. It was cold and the wood was soaked, but it would do for at least a night or two, hopefully more.

He pulled his knees to his chest as close as he could get them, his arms wrapped around them tightly as the possibilities of what could have happened went through his head. He was only 12 or so (he honestly wasn’t sure) but that didn’t always stop people according to the stories. More than one had certainly gotten the point across. Thinking back now, a coil of cold fear pooled in his stomach. That man had almost certainly saved his life. At only 10 he didn’t have enough range in his magic to join a guild, not that he was certain any would take him anyway. He wouldn’t be able to work jobs or do much. Without a family, there was no one to ransom him to. The only options left he didn’t want to think about, but they came anyway. He could have been sold off as a slave - there were most probably still countries that used slaves to do most of their manual labor - or simply killed off. There was also the option of having been kept as a ‘toy’

That thought frightened him like none of the others had.

Part of him - a small, still rational part - took notice as his breathing sped up, and he knew he was beginning to hyperventilate. The same fight or flight response responsible for his shimmering earlier activated again, leaving the crate looking empty just as the door was moved.

“Hey, where’d you go little lady?” The voice was clearly puzzled. It wasn’t the same voice that had saved him in the alley way - no this one was lighter, though dry as though he hadn’t had anything to drink lately. The man who pushed aside the makeshift door was clearly confused. 

“I could have sworn I heard crying. Poor girl. I don’t think I was hallucinating…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head. “Oh well. I guess I should see if I can find something to eat.” 

In the crate, he had pushed himself up against the back, watching the front with wide eyes. The voice was kind, a tone in it reminiscent of the other homeless he had come across during his travels. 

“Too bad I can’t fit in here. It’s not the worst, however.” The man continued, making himself comfortable. It wasn’t uncommon for people to talk to themselves - he knew this from experience. It was too dark to be able to see much of the man, other than general shape. “If you’re there, little one, don’t be afraid to come to us for help. We’re all pretty nice here. If you head to Maple street there’s an older lady who doesn’t mind hiring for small jobs and chores. She can usually find something for people to do. Good luck, little one.” 

Grunting a little, the man stood and wandered off. Mismatched eyes watched him go from the side of the crate as they shimmered back into view, the adrenaline wearing off, as well as the panic that had been rising. 

When nothing happened for another few moments, he sighed and crawled back into the box. With the creeping panic diffused, he just felt tired. It was no surprise when he thought about it - not that he wanted to.

Regardless of what he wanted to think about, as soon as he collapsed against the back wall of the box he found himself in black. 


	2. Drawing From the Deck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, another chapter! And so soon! I must admit, I am enjoying this a great deal. I am in the process of looking for a beta still, if anyone is willing to be the one who pokes me into gear when I inevitably stall. As always, constructive criticism is welcome. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it!

Opening his eyes, he blinked. It was bright - the door had never moved back into position and the sun was shining right in, of course directly on his face. Judging by the sun’s strength, it was later than he was used to, but it wasn’t that surprising after the night he’d had. The voices of passersby, even in this offset passage, were lively as they came and went, some discussing lunch plans or errands they had to run. It probably wasn’t quite afternoon then. One conversation happened right in front of his door, the voices distinct.

“Oh, did you hear what’s going on in Magnolia? That one guild is having a large party, and apparently it’s going to be huge! Most everyone’s supposed to be there.”

“Really? I know they’ve been pretty busy with jobs recently. One of the guild members came through here last night - remember the warning? We had to stay out of certain areas just in case something blew up because he’s so destructive!”

“Anyone who knows anything about the guild knows it’s best to stay out of his way. He wrecks houses just by looking at them! What if we were in one?”

“I don’t know about ‘by looking at them’, but he shouldn’t be causing so much destruction. Though, wouldn’t they pay to fix it if he broke it?”

The voices continued on their merry way debating the question, fading into the ambience as he sat back and pondered this new fact. There was a good possibility the man from last night was the one who had come through and saved him, but it was possible the other way too. Admittedly, if he had a name this would be quite a bit easier. It was regrettable the guy hadn’t introduced himself.

His stomach growled, reminding him that it had been several hours since he’d had anything to eat. 

“Shit.” He sighed, crawling out of the makeshift house. “Time to see what I can scavenge today. Maybe the Market’s nearby and they’ll be nice.”

The time he had sat inside contemplating had allowed his eyes to adjust somewhat, so emerging into the bright sun didn’t hurt as much as it could have, but he still had to blink tears from his eyes. Apparently his box was placed just right to allow the 

sun unimpeded access to his box. The opposite side of the passage was offset just a bit, so the passage wasn’t completely straight. Oh well - it was still a nice place. The stone, despite this being this being an older town, didn’t look like it was about to crumble despite being in one of the lesser cared-for pathways. Speaking of the passages, he could hear a familiar voice coming down one. The guy didn’t seem to be shy about being heard - he unabashedly talked, not holding back in the least.

“Oh, I wonder if little one is still there! It’s awfully late, but maybe she is! I hope she’s not crying this time…,” As the voice came closer he pushed the door back into place, leaning against it as his eyes focused on the intersection. He may not have tried anything before, but it never hurt to be careful.Last night would have been the time to do anything, so he doubted anything would happen in broad daylight. A smile, unbidden, actually twitched at his lips at the thought of the man who seemed to be one of the kindest he’d come across.

“Oh, little one! You’re here!” The man’s voice was overjoyed as his thin, wrinkled body turned the corner, his  creased face lighting up at the sight of him leaning against the box. “I was hoping you would still be. You seemed so sad last night.”

“Yeah…” He said quietly, having given up on changing his voice and settling for hating it. “Still here.”

He wasn’t sure how it was possible, but the man’s face lit up even further, the deep brown eyes closed because of how widely he was smiling.

“So little one can talk! What’s your name, little one?” 

There were two answers he could give to that question. He could refuse to answer or he could give his birth name. Honestly, the birth name would have been forgotten without a second thought - it represented the part of his life he had given up without hesitation - but he had a small hope something might change. Really, there was a third option of making something up on the spot, but he wasn’t very good at making up names.

Evidently he was taking too long because the man cooed and shook his head.

“That’s okay if you don’t remember or don’t want me to know it. I can give you one if you want.” The offer was sincere and strangely didn’t make him any more uncomfortable than he already was. “Or I can just call you Little One. I think the others might find that a little strange though.”

The 10 year old shrugged. He wasn’t that concerned with what people thought of him so long as they didn’t confront him directly about it. The older man shrugged too, it seemed he wasn’t that worried about it either. Maybe living for so long as homeless did that to a person.

“Let’s stick to Little One for now then. You can let me know when you find something you like, hm?” The man ruffled the long red hair, smiling down at him. It looked especially kind on the wrinkled old face, despite his thinning hair and yellowish teeth. “I’m Pari, but you can call me whatever you like. I won’t mind.”

Another smile twitched at his - Little One’s - lips, making him duck his head down. He wasn’t used to feeling embarrassed because of someone else anymore - not from any good things at least. Usually it was because of taunts or something similar. 

Little One wasn’t stupid. He knew it was easy to be taken by surprise, to be manipulated by others. Being so young, he also wasn’t the strongest so he couldn’t fight his way out of situations. His magical focus - something that seemed to grow along with him rather than he actually had to actively study - was useful in certain situations, but it generally wasn’t a very combat-oriented power. Not like fire or something would be. He had other uses. But he also trusted his instincts. They had gotten him out of more than one situation in better shape than he would have otherwise. 

Right now, his instincts were telling him that he could trust Pari - maybe not share everything with him, but it’d be better than living on his own in yet another city. The fact that he called him Little One rather than Little Girl helped - maybe something had told him that would be unappreciated.

He nodded again, conveying to Pari his agreement. 

“You don’t talk much do you?” The older man inquired, gesturing for his now-ward to follow him as he started down the passageway. “Not that that’s a problem. I’m sure you’ve noticed I talk enough for two. I think maybe getting a few jobs might help with money, but it’s okay if you don’t want to do a lot of them. At the very least we can get something to eat and maybe something new for you to wear. I’m sure you’re tired of wearing that ratty old thing.”

Really, Pari wasn’t wearing much better, but it also looked to be a lot more durable than Little One’s dress. One wrong rip and he could destroy the entire thing in the blink of an eye.

“There’s a store down on Ronin lane that will give discounts to the homeless looking for new clothing. Sometimes they’ll even give out freebies. Ah, here we are.” With a fanciful sashay to the side that made Little One nearly smile again, Pari led him over to a surprisingly well-dressed older woman. Well, surprising for these parts anyway. Around here where most of the shops that didn't have enough popularity to attract the bourgeois it was rare to find someone dressed like she was.

A frilly, fluffy hat sat atop her head, the same light blue as the corset of her dress, the color of which seemed to bleed into the bell and grow progressively lighter as it neared the bottom. The sleeves were the same way, the light blue fading down toward the sleeves. While the design was slightly unconventional - she was probably a foreigner, by the shape of her face - it was very well made. As Pari and Little One got closer, it was easier to see the crisp creases and tight seams. Small gloved hands rested on the handle of an umbrella that matched her dress. The whole woman was dainty, made even more so by the way she seemingly had sunk into the seat provided for her with her eyes closed. It utterly surprised Little One to see her, but apparently Pari had talked to her more than once.

“Good morning, Sara!” The tanned man greeted her enthusiastically, not at all put out when she cracked one eye open and glared at him. After a few seconds that eye moved to Pari’s shadow, running over the long hair that went everywhere and the mangled dress.

“Not such a good morning if you ask me.” Her voice was crackly, like a log about to break apart in a fire, her glare the flames that tried to lick Pari’s attitude. The man just perked up, refusing to let his mood be dampened.

“I’m sorry I’m late, but I brought a friend. Little One, this is Sara. Sara, we’ve decided on Little One for now as she doesn’t have a name.” Little One’s head tilted toward the floor, embarrassed. He could explain, but this was something he hadn’t come across. How would they take it? “I was hoping you would have something for us to do. For the usual fare of course.”

“Hmpf.” The old lady slowly stood from her chair, sighing in relief once the popping in her back and joints settled. “Come on then. I need shopping done.” She led the two of them away, toward the Market presumably. He had just arrived yesterday, after all. 


End file.
